Page 76 of Wrong Pucking Player

At the same time, it’s better than my original plan of fucking a stranger. There may be no strings attached to this thing between Cyrus and me, but in my heart, I know he’d never hurt me, never force me to do anything against my will.

Sleeping in the same bed as him doesn’t frighten me in the slightest, even with my drunk, tipsy, incoherent ass.

It’s the best option right now.

I can’t fuck it up.

“Okay,” I finally agree. “I wanna finish my mimosa, though.”

“Okay,” he responds and leans over to suck at my ear lobe. “Finish it, Baby. I like to see the way your mouth works. Let’s test that later, hmm?”

Fuck.

Puck.

Fucking Pucking Fuckery.

There’s no point in fighting this.

I want to fuck Wyatt Cyrus tonight.

Deep down, this may be my only shot.

CELEBRATORY PUCKING

~WYATT~

“Slower, Xandra.”

I’m pleading with her because I won’t last ten seconds if she keeps sucking my cock like she’s sincerely missed the blood-pumping rod that’s hard as fuck more than she did me.

Here we are.

Twelve in the morning in this private suite on top of the noisy bar below that’s just as loud from the outside as the inside.

I’m naked.

My Wildflower is naked.

Covered in plentiful love bites and kisses.

On her knees.

With my cock deep in her miraculous mouth.

My hand shoots out by default to stop her from sliding down all the way to the base of my shaft, who knows how many times.

If she went an inch deeper, I’d cave entirely.

That’s how close I am.

My breath is heavy, and the room feels like it’s about to spin out of control, but I focus on breathing while my fingers entangle through Xandra’s blonde locks.

I lift her head back a bit, watching as she slowly slides off my cock and doesn’t hesitate to lick her lips that are glossed with my precum. My cock twitches from the sight while I’m so lost in how stunning she looks right now.

This woman bloomed into the most beautiful flower I’ve ever seen.

It felt like I was falling in love with her all over again, only this time, the intense emotions of possessiveness were out of control.

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